There’s little doubt that area residents knew Norm Johnson because of the prominence of his farm market that has graced the side of Hwy. 25 for 60 years. However, the recent passing of the long-time Becker resident has meant that those who knew him best have also had a chance to reflect upon his many qualities, and how they add up to forge an incredible legacy that lives on through his children and grandchildren. And with that legacy comes many a life lesson that still can be applied to today’s society.
During a recent visit with Norm’s sons Steve and Shawn, their dad’s Army service was a topic of discussion, as he spent nearly two years in Germany as a tank commander. A normal crew was five, yet a shortage of soldiers meant Norm’s crew was just three. The boys said that their dad was convinced he became the tank commander because of his ability to tighten the bogeys on the track so they wouldn’t come loose.
“He always said that was something the city kids couldn’t do,” Shawn recalled.
“When he tightened anything on the farm, we were never able to get it off,” laughed Steve.
Farmer strength. Just one of the legacies of a man who his son’s say loved combining just as much as fishing.
“He was 89 years old when he shot his last buck, and that year was also the last time he ran the combine,” Shawn remembers.
He had accompanied his dad on the machine to help open-up the field and to remind him of how the buttons worked.
“I took off the end rows and we barely got started down the field when dad told me to get out,” Shawn said. “Apparently, he had remembered what all the buttons were for!”
Another lesson: it’s better to be the driver than the passenger.
Phil Knutson, a former worker on the farm who praised Norm as a long-time mentor, offered the eulogy at his funeral this past Monday. Knutson fondly recounted many instances where Norm never wasted much time getting from place to place, whether on a boat, ATV or other farm equipment. Norm knew where the throttle was located at all times.
Another topic in Knutson’s memorialization was Norm’s entrepreneurial spirit and knack for finding success.
In 2014, Norm described the origins of the farm market to the St. Cloud Times, stating “It was just a kid’s project . . . they pulled an old wagon with no tires on the rims to the edge of the road and sold corn.”
The children returned with $7.35, meaning they had earned a 10¢ tip from one of the customers. By the way, they still have that old wagon.
“I remember one year we picked a load of corn, counted all the ears and left a money can on the trailer,” Steve recalled. “We went to the State Fair and when we came back, all the corn was gone and all the money was in the can.”
Of course, no farmer would make it through the trials and tribulations of the seasons without having a sense of humor. And Norm had a good one indeed. The snickers, grins and giggles were fondly remembered by all who called him dad, grandpa or friend.
“We used to haul pigs to the cities and he called ahead once to tell them he had 32 that were coming in and averaging 220 pounds,” said Steve. “The guy on the phone said he couldn’t handle that many at once . . . dad had dialed the wrong number and was talking to the mortician.”
Perhaps the one thing that stood out to everyone who knew him was Norm’s penchant for perfection. Even sweeping the floor had a specific routine and plan that needed to be followed.
Granddaughter Stacey, who now runs the farm market, remembers a strict man, but one who was always teaching others.
“He had a lot of advice,” she remembered with a smile. “And we couldn’t get away with anything.”
The shortest “shift” for weeding the garden was at least an hour long, and yes, there was the lesson in sweeping given to all the grandchildren. Of course, a person had to start in the corners to do the job correctly.
“If you didn’t do it right, he’d always say ‘you wouldn’t last long in the Army’,” Steve said.
Yet another lesson: anything worth doing is worth doing well.
“In everything he did, he was always fidgeting and trying to adjust things to make them even better,” Shawn remembered. “He was trying to get the combine to produce even cleaner grain, or the snowmobile to go a little faster . . . and his lawn mower deck was never quite level enough.”
Through all the lessons and advice, the teaching and the talking, one thing Norm never lost sight of was his family. Nothing was as important as his family and making sure they were taken care of.
“He always said that a guy had to plan for the hard times,” Shawn said. “Don’t spend it all in one day.”
Through his lifetime of 91 years, Norm did just that in teaching his family how to get through one of the hardest days of all - the day he was laid to rest.
The farm market still stands, the fields are still being harvested and everyone that knew him has a story, a lesson or a memory that nourishes their soul as they cope with their grief.
Too many memories to be shared in just one day, or just one article.
Rest in peace, Norm.
